Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [271]
I used them all.
"Stop!" I shouted at him. "Talk to me!”
He didn't. He panicked, heeling his mount and jerking its head, seeking to circle around and make another pass at me. His mount stumbled, going to its knees, and threw him. Atop the crest, the D'Angeline who'd shouted a warning and the other man were still battering at one another.
"Wait," I said softly in Rus, approaching the fallen guard. "Listen.”
He scrambled to his feet, shook his head, and charged me, sword extended.
I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't want to kill him. But I had been trained, very well, to defend my own life. At such times, it is the only thing that matters. I sidestepped his charge and angled my blade low, cutting him deep across the thighs.
He grunted and fell.
"I'm sorry" I said in anguish. "Damn you! Why wouldn't you listen?”
"Imriel!”
Another clear, carrying shout. I raised my head. Now the second Vralian rider was coming, howling in fury, the D'Angeline hot in pursuit. Fair hair streamed under the D'Angeline's fur hat, a hat much like the one I'd lost. I hoped it was Joscelin, except it didn't sound like Joscelin. And if it was, I couldn't imagine he'd have let his man get away. Not with my safety at stake.
The Vralian guard at my feet writhed, clutching his wounds. There was blood, a great deal of blood, gushing between his fingers. I'd cut one of the big veins. He wouldn't live, this one. Not in this wilderness.
And the other meant to kill me.
"Blessed Elua forgive me," I murmured, plucking my dagger from its sheath. I'd had time to think, this time. I wasn't standing gape-mouthed and stupid. I tossed the dagger in the air, catching it by its tip. I watched him loom large in my vision. He wasn't a fox or some quick-moving forest animal to dodge when my arm came forward, laughing at me with parted jaws before vanishing into the deep cover of the forest. Just a man, misguided. Nor more innocent or guilty than the rest of us.
Angry that I'd killed his comrade.
I didn't blame him for that. I was, too. But I didn't want to die.
His face was set in a rictus of fury. I recognized him, too. He was the one who had attempted to play my flute. The one I'd mocked. He rode a swift, surefooted mount. The D'Angeline pounding behind him was laboring to keep pace.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, and threw.
The dagger took him in the throat, the hilt protruding. He rocked back in the saddle, gurgling. Slumped, fell heavily to the ground. His mount cantered to a halt and began snuffling the stony ground. I walked over to him. There was blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.
He gestured to his throat.
I nodded and set my hand to the hilt. "Yeshua's mercy on you.”
Everyone dies alone and no one wants to. Mayhap it is the one way, in the end, in which all of us are alike, no matter what our faith. I knelt beside the Tarkovan guard and plucked the dagger from his throat. His back arched, his body rigid as a bow. Blood and air bubbled from the wound. His hand scrabbled for mine. I held it, hard. I bowed my head, my trailing hair growing sticky with his blood.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He didn't answer.
He was dead.
I got to my feet. There was the D'Angeline on horseback, pulling up hard. I didn't acknowledge him yet. I couldn't. I walked over to the other Vralian, the man I'd struck with my sword. I was right, I'd hit one of the big veins. He lay in a pool of blood, already freezing into crystals at the outer edges, his open eyes staring at the blank sky. I knelt beside him, closing his eyelids tenderly.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish you'd listened.”
He didn't answer either, of course.
"Imriel." A D'Angeline voice said my name. It sounded tight and strange.
I looked up into the face of Maslin de Lombelon.
Chapter Sixty
When I saw Maslin's face, somewhere in the back of my mind, a part of me wondered if I truly had lost my wits. But